“Man goes to doctor. Says he's depressed. Says life seems harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain. Doctor says "Treatment is simple. Great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him. That should pick you up." Man bursts into tears. Says "But Doctor... I am Pagliacci."
He was a duck. That was the first thing anyone noticed about the corpse. A duck well over three feet but a duck still the same. His green feathers were matted with blood that had now dried and stuck fast. The wound was on his head, large and had been cause by a huge amount of force, almost manic in its way. The police had managed to cordon off the area and were going over every nook and cranny to find any evidence, with little luck so far. Detective Yeon Isageum looked at the corpse lying on the ground, shaking his head. The corpse was wearing what had been once fine clothes, an evening gown with a cape made of fine material. But time had worn it to a shoddy appearance, even without the blood, the clothing was frayed and well worn. Yet another hopeful immigrant to Pyongyang it seemed.
Yeon looked over the crime scene, trying to get whatever he could out of it. There was little to see though. Not only had the killing been quick and devastating, the small alley they were in had been washed with rain fairly recently, making any true investigation a most difficult task. And that wasn’t the only problem to consider. Yeon walked over to Kah Il, a crime scene investigator and close friend “What do you think then?” Yeon asked.
“I think you’ve really landed in the shit now Detective.” Il replied. Whenever there was a problem which he couldn’t solve, Il would always become curt and call Yeon by his title as opposed to his name. This was not a good sign “Not only is there absolutely nothing helping us, but you’ve also been handed the first Toon murder in Pyongyang in over a decade. You’re going to have a lot of people after you on this one. My recommendation is to arrest that bastard Don Michael.”
Yeon let Il have his outburst, the man tended to have them from time to time and it was best to let them go their course before saying anything “Is there nothing to go on?” He asked, trying to return Il back to the topic at hand.
“Nothing really. My first take on this is that whoever did this was good. They walked in, killed the duck and then went out. The only thing I can give you is that the time of death is roughly twelve hours ago and that he was struck from the front. He knew his attacker perhaps? He’d have to in order to let him raise such a heavy object in front of him without reacting. One strike on the forehead and it was done.”
“Or he just might have been surprised by a thief who was standing in the right place.” Yeon said “Any ideas on motive?”
Il shook his head “It’s odd because he was a nobody Toon. In this city, they tread on nobodies; they don’t waste time and effort killing them.”
Yeon growled, no clues, no motive and the first Toon death in Pyongyang in over a decade and he’d been assigned to it. Just great. The only silver lining in this was that he’d at least be able to call upon the resources of the police department. A Toon death was notable indeed, the last on had been in the late seventies, just before things had calmed down and the factions had split off into their own domains. A random street killing by another Toon? Remarkable indeed… And it had been another Toon. A Human couldn’t hurt Toons at all; they had to go after each other.
As the coroner came to take away the body, Yeon thought long and hard about what was happening. Pyongyang had been a lot calmer since the peace of the late 70’s and this to happen, a random killing between Toons of which the victim wasn’t even affiliated with any of the factions in Pyongyang, it did not bode well. Yeon looked over as they began to take the body away “Anyone got a name on this Toon at all?”
This was greeted by several shrugs. No surprise, the Toon had been a foreigner, a British immigrant looking for work. And it wasn’t as if Ducks were uncommon in and of themselves as Toons. Half of Don Michael’s gang were them for crying out loud. One cursory glance around the alley yielded nothing. It was like many other alleys in Pyongyang and all over the World. Small, dingy and dirty with little distinguishing features. Yeon looked back to the victim with some pity, an immigrant trying to make some way in the Toon World only to be killed and left in an alley for twelve hours before anyone even found him.
Yeon turned back and headed to his car. He would have to wait until the coroner’s report came back and by then, he wanted to have some background information on the victim. As he began to start the car, his gaze turned to the side and he saw an old faded poster stuck on the wall. There, smiling and in an ever confident pose, was Don Michael, his hand held high in confidence and cheerfulness. Yeon cursed under his breath at the happy rodent. It had become a common saying in Pyongyang that if you wanted to find something rotten, you look for a mouse. That damn rodent and his entire kind had corrupted Pyongyang. Made it fester and sour. As Yeon began the drive to the police station, the rain began again, the blood on the cement gradually washing away into a nearby drain.
Last edited:
